


A Hard Place

by TyrionStarkTapioca



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Claudia, Angst, Hospitalization, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:20:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21668095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyrionStarkTapioca/pseuds/TyrionStarkTapioca
Summary: Derek has loved Stiles since he met him over a decade ago at the town fair. But Stiles' brain tumor has warped him from the man he loves to his greatest tormentor. Is it wrong for Derek to want to leave?
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42





	A Hard Place

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in yeeeeeears, I would love some constructive criticism!
> 
> And yes Dr. Cox is ~that~ Dr. Cox, had to put a subtle nod to one of my favorite shows of all time :)

Derek Hale met Mieczyslaw ‘Stiles’ Stilinski at the Beacon Hills town fair when they were nine and eight respectively. Derek had been wandering about, eating a strawberry ice cream cone when he had caught the sight of a lanky curly-haired brunette furiously whacking at rainbow-painted moles. Derek will always remember this scene in vivid detail. Stiles’ small rosy lips stretched wide in the most inviting of smiles, the setting sun shining behind Stiles’ head, giving him a natural angelic halo. He remembers that she won himself a huge stuffed seal that day; he named it Mr. Whiskers. 

Mr. Whiskers, now faded and slightly tattered from age, lies beside him in his too-large hospital bed. Derek looks through the hospital room window at Stiles’ sleeping form. He arrived a bit too early and is not allowed in yet. The swathing sheets and oversized hospital gown seem to just swallow him up and make him look even more like the boy Derek remembers. The man Derek loves. But this Stiles, the one that is now thankfully asleep, is not that man.

It began with small headaches that later morphed into full-body seizures. The doctors kept reassuring Derek and Stiles’ parents that they were ‘lucky’ to have caught it so quickly. That just like Claudia, with medication, he’d be up and raving about his theories on the paranormal activity in Beacon Hills in no time.

It’s crazy how easily people can lie to your face. 

It’s been nearly twenty-six months, three weeks, and five days since Stiles checked in to the hospital. And he hasn’t been fully himself for most of them. Constantly being scathingly insulted, apathetically dismissed, and overall physically and emotionally hurt by the man he had once loved had taken an enormous toll on Derek. He couldn’t take it anymore. 

He took a year off of medical school to be with Stiles, and if he doesn’t go back, he will lose his full scholarship. Derek is emotionally and mentally at the end of his rope; he does not feel as if he has the capacity to be a pseudo grieving husband at the ripe old age of twenty-three.

This is the line of thinking that swirls around the young man’s brain as he walks the hospital hallways, waiting for visiting hours to begin. He turns a corner back towards Stiles’ room as his phone vibrates in his pocket. Looking at the screen he sees that he received a text.

CelloGirlPaige: Hey Babe! You excited to meet my parents tonight?  
SourWolf92: I don’t know if I can make it.  
CelloGirlPaige: . . . K  
CelloGirlPaige: Is it the hospital again? For a volunteer they have you working a lot.  
SourWolf92: Yeah, they’re just really understaffed.  
CelloGirlPaige: Lol dang, well my parents will understand.  
SourWolf92: Are you sure? Tell them I’m so sorry.  
CelloGirlPaige: Dude, you’re literally volunteering. In a hospital. You’re a freaking saint.  
SourWolf92: Nah, this is really all just a cover for my secret jello addiction.  
CelloGirlPaige: Yeah, sure Mother Theresa.

Derek smiles to himself a little before he is startled by a hand on his shoulder. He looks up to see Mr. Stilinski looking down at his phone reading his texts. There’s a pained silence before Mr. Stilinski looks up at Derek.

“Are you meeting her parents today?” He says in a whisper. Derek can only nod.

“Good luck,” Mr. Stilinski gives the boy a hearty tap on the back as he continues in a nostalgic voice, “I remember when I met Claudia’s parents. I nearly pooped my pants.”

They share a quick laugh that doesn’t reach either of their eyes. That’s when Mrs. Stilinski or Claudia as she insists Derek call him, comes around the corner and envelops Derek in a hug. Even though he towers over her now at six feet tall, he still feels very much a boy as he melts into his hug. She feels like safety and warmth, and he’s always felt guilty of letting him comfort him. 

“I am always so happy to see you here!” she pulls back to look at Derek fully in the face, “Stiles’ loyal knight!” 

Derek smiles stiffly then replies, “That’s me.”

As she goes back in for a hug, Derek meets Mr. Stilinski’s eyes over his head. The older man gives a slight shake to his head. 

It’s crazy how easily people can lie to your face. 

They make their way to Stiles’ room in a united line. A nurse walking by could have confused them with soldiers, arms linked, teeth gritted, pushing past enemy lines. Pausing right in front of his door they gather themselves. Little could clue them into who will greet them on the other side of the door. Claudia is first to break rank - she always is – and she opens the hospital room door. They find Stiles with his head bent over a book, staring intently at the pages. His eyes snap up as they enter the room.  
There is a beat of silence as the two parties regard each other. The morning sun streams in, framing Stiles’ curls in beams of light as soft music plays from him bedside radio.

“Hey guys!” he smiles weakly and turns down the music. “About time you got here!” 

There’s a silent sigh of relief between the three as they take their usual seats around Stiles’ bed. Conversations flow easily between the four. For a moment it’s like the Thursday night dinners they used to do religiously at the Stilinski household. 

When Derek and Stiles had officially started dating their freshmen year of high school Mr. Stilinski threatened Derek over dinner that week. The very same, ‘I’m only a law-abiding cop while my badge is on’ threat Claudia’s father had not so jokingly said to him. The table was full of laughter and smiles as Stiles hid his beet-red face in Derek’s shoulder.

“Oh my God, Dad please stop. You know Derek would literally die first before he even thought of hurting me.” 

Mr. Stilinski chuckled as he takes a swig of his Pilsner, “I know, I practically raised the boy.”

Derek remembers the pride that rose in his chest when Mr. Stilinski had said that. Claudia had come in after that from the kitchen with carrot cake he would learn later that Stiles had spent all weekend perfecting knowing that it was Derek’s favorite. 

Derek used to always look forward to those Thursday nights. Hale family dinners had died with Derek’s father when he’d passed. A few days after the funeral, he and his mother tried to cook dinner for themselves, but quickly realized they had no idea where anything was in the kitchen. What began as an attempt at bonding, devolved into a torturous reminder of their loss. After that Derek’s mother buried himself into her work at her law firm. It was like the boy had lost two parents in that car crash. Derek began to find himself alone - a lot. His mother would leave money on the table for him and he would just wander about Beacon Hills. It was on one of these aimless walks that he met Stiles. 

Stiles had immediately befriended him and invited him home. His parents invited him in and wove Derek into their lives so seamlessly. Thursday night became Derek’s favorite night of the week. For those couple hours during dinner, he got to have a family, a real family that cared where he was and asked him about his day and was genuinely interested in him. Nothing could describe the warmth and sense of belonging he felt when he walked into their living room at six o’clock on the dot every week and see the table set for four. 

Derek watches in amusement as Stiles gesticulates wildly, enthusiastically retelling a story while Mr. Stilinski laughs loudly, it’s like nothing has changed. Derek snaps out of his reverie when there’s a knock on the door. After a pause, Dr. Cox, the chief of the neurology department and head doctor on Stiles’ case, pops his head into the room. His arrival breaks the very delicate dynamic in the room. Stiles can feel the change around him but doesn’t understand. He turns his head to look at Dr. Cox, who is standing by the door. 

“Hello," Stiles greets warmly, "Are you, my doctor?”

His simple question is like a sharp knife to everyone’s heart. Dr. Cox’s face drops for a moment in disappointment but he quickly slips on his confident-doctor mask. At this point, they are all very used to overestimating Stiles’ lucid episodes. There is always an invisible barrier of memories that he hits, and sometimes he hits it hard. 

Dr. Cox keeps up some comfortable banter for a bit before inviting Claudia and Mr. Stilinski outside to talk. The latter makes significant eyes at Derek as they leave; the young man gives him a perfunctory nod then turns back to Stiles. He, ever the perceptive one, caught their little exchange and waits until the doorknob clicks before he narrows his eyes at Derek.

“What’s going on?”

The knife in his heart twists. One would think he’d be used to this by now, but one never really gets used to it. He takes a steadying breath and looks fully into Stiles’ eyes. 

“Woah, Sourwolf you’re really serious right now,” he laughs nervously. “It’s kind of scaring me.” 

This causes Derek to falter. He hadn’t called him that in almost a year. Stiles had almost forgotten the nickname. He shakes the familiar guilt off of himself; he has to try to get through this. 

“Stiles, I … We need to break-up.”

He says it in a voice that’s quiet, yet firm. Beating around the bush would just hurt them both more. Stiles’ eyes widen and immediately begin to water; he grabs at Derek’s hands.

“Derek, what? Where is this coming from?” His voice is full of hurt and confusion. 

Derek hates this. He hates this so much. This Stiles doesn’t deserve this. But then again neither does this Derek. 

He squeezes his hands as he continues, “Stiles, you’ve been in this hospital for over two years.” His eyes widen even further at Derek’s admission.

“You don’t remember because you’re not always like this.”

Stiles scans Derek’s face and begins to notice the changes in his face and clothes. The Derek in front of him seems to have aged years from the one he saw just yesterday. Stiles slips his hands out of Derek’s and hugs himself, face pained. 

“Two years?” He says mostly to himself in disbelief. 

Derek moves to comfort him, but he pulls away.

“Is there -” he hugs himself tighter as he trains his eyes on Derek, “. . . Is there someone else?” 

Derek splays his hands on his thighs and pauses for a moment. His eyes fall to a fading scar down the length of the front of his hand. Derek blinks and he’s back in this same hospital room, a couple of months prior.

It was one of Stiles’ worse episodes. Mr.Stilinski had needed to take Claudia for a check-up with her neurologist, so Derek was alone when he entered his room. He arrived at a scene that was something out of a horror movie. Stiles stood on top of his hospital bed, brandishing a pair of surgical scissors he had swiped from the nurse’s station. A couple of nurses were trying to calm him down and take the scissors away.

“Get away from me!” Stiles swatted the air near their faces and hissed. Derek braved a stepped forward, flush with the nurses.

“Stiles,” he began in a calm tone, “can you give me those scissors?”

Derek’s voice startled him for a moment as the young man whirled around to point the scissors at his throat.

“Well, well if it isn’t Derek. My piece of shit boyfriend. Nice of you to show up.” Stiles waved the scissors back and forth with every biting word. 

Derek flinched at Stiles’ profanity-laced insult but remembered the exercises Dr. Cox had walked him through. Be calm, breathe, and remain the bigger person. 

“Yes, Stiles I am here. I am always here for you.”

“Oh really? Like you were there your for your stupid bitch of a Mom?”

Derek sucked in a quick breath. Be calm, breathe, remain the bigger person. He reined in the wave of hurt and anger that washed over him. He took another step forward.

“Give me the scissors, please.”  
Be calm, breathe, remain -- 

“Is that what you said to your Mom when you caught her trying to kill herself? Like a fucking coward?”

Derek saw red for a moment, and he grabbed at the scissors as Stiles launched himself at him. There was a slight tussle, but with the nurses’ help, the boy was soon restrained. Derek left the room with Stiles wailing screams of insults like jagged knives. It wasn’t until much later that he noticed the large gash on his hand.  
He blinks again and realizes some time has passed since Stiles asked him a question. When he answers, it’s the most truthful he’s ever been. 

“Stiles, I could never love someone the way I love you.” 

“So am I just a burden? You’re dumping me because this is too much? Because I'm too much?” As he speaks, his voice gets quieter and quieter and begins to waver. The tears he was holding back silently stream down his face. 

Derek presses the heels of his hands to the back of his eyes, holding back tears. 

“I just can’t be everything for you.” He lowers his hands and grips his chair hard. “I can barely be anything for myself”. 

They both just sit for a moment, crying and staring openly at each other. One would think that Derek would be less emotional; he had done this many times before. But he had spoken to Mr. Stillinski at length about this the month prior. He needed to make a clean break; it was as much for his sake as for Stiles’.  
But as Derek sat six inches away from him, Stiles’ tears falling and hitting his hospital gown, feeling his heart draw away from his, he just can’t let him go. 

Derek gets up, slowly takes off his jacket, and lays it across the back of his chair. 

“Scoot over,” he says gruffly lying in his bed with him, carefully maneuvering him onto his lap around him tubes and IV.

Stiles sniffs lightly as he burrows into Derek’s chest. “Are you still breaking up with me?”

From his spot on the bed, Derek has a full view of Dr. Cox talking to Mr. Stilinski and Claudia through the room door window. Husband and wife are a mirror image of Derek and Stiles, Claudia gripping Mr. Stilinski as she sobs. Mr. Stilinski has picked a spot on the floor and seems to be off in his own world.

“Hey.” Stiles tugs on his shirt and looks up at Derek. He’s stopped crying but his eyes are still red. “Earth to Derek, did you hear me?”.

Having been stuck between a rock and a hard place for so long, Derek has made his choice. He looks away from the door and gives Stiles a watery smile, hugging him close.


End file.
